


An Unexpected Song

by Venturous



Series: Sweet Surprise [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 14:50:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3492440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venturous/pseuds/Venturous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly finds more than a few surprises at the Purim party.</p><p>Start with Part 1 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3476813</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unexpected Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BootsnBlossoms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BootsnBlossoms/gifts).



Feeling slightly ridiculous and more than a bit flushed, Molly hurried along Brooks Street in her best shoes, praying she would not fall flat on her face. Where was Mrs. Gorski sending her? This was a very posh street. She had imagined a large and boisterous Polish family gathering, not some tony affair near St. James.

At least her dress was appropriate. After the Christmas party debacle, her friend Sadie convinced her to spend a day at Selfridges trying on frocks.

“You must be prepared for anything, darling!” Sadie jollied her along.

Eventually they settled on this lovely fitted shift in cerise and violet reds, patterned with lush clusters of roses rising from the hem. Above this the pattern brightened with filigree of white and turquoise. Despite its modest neckline and sleeves, the fit broadcast her curves so perfectly the effect was, as Sadie had put it, ‘demure but devastating.’

Molly double-checked the address as she stood before the massive walnut door, hesitating before pressing the bell. Her eyes widened when a uniformed footman greeted her, complete with white gloves. He took her coat and ushered up the staircase.

The upstairs hall opened onto what looked like a ballroom, so glittery and bright. She gave silent thanks to Sadie for their shopping extravaganza, and to Mrs. Gorski for the beautifully wrapped basket of treats. At least she was presentable.

As she glanced around the room, Molly saw a few dozen people, all in elegant attire, a few with masks or festive hats. Oh dear, she hadn’t known it was a costume ball! But, she gathered her courage, put on a smile and, spying the table laden with gifts, strode across the room to add her own colorful basket.

“Dr. Hooper, what an unexpected pleasure.” A droll and familiar voice sent a chill down her back, and Molly turned toward the well dressed man behind her, only to see Mycroft Holmes. “Welcome to my pied a’ terre.” He extended his hand.

“M- Mycroft! Oh, I didn’t expect to see you here!” She was flustered, and a blush rose on her pale cheeks.

Mycroft smiled quite warmly and offered “Sherlock’s not here yet, would you care for a drink?”

“Sherlock? Oh, ah, um, yes!” she brightened. Yes, a drink.

He took in her evident confusion and looked momentarily puzzled, then took her in tow over to a group of women seated near a marble fireplace, which glowed with a cheerful fire.

“Cousin, I’d like to introduce Dr. Hooper, an eminent pathologist at St. Bart’s, and a colleague of Sherlock’s. Rebecca, meet Molly. Molly, Rebecca Steinmetz.”

Molly gazed at the elegant woman who rose and took her hand. Stately, with dark tightly curled hair shot through with a thread of silver, her gaze was both calm and fierce.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Molly. I’m on the board at Bart’s, so it’s good to meet someone who makes the place function. And you collaborate with our Sherlock, do you?” Her eyes twinkled. “Allow me to make a few introductions.”

Rebecca did volunteer work at the highest levels, fundraising for worthy causes. She knew everyone and seemed to enjoy showing Molly off. As they walked across the burnished floor she said quietly “that’s quite a stunning outfit, my dear. You look like a real prize.”

Molly blushed and fumbled for something witty to say. “Th- thank you!”

Before long, Molly was enjoying a flute of the most delicious champagne and engaging conversation with a gaggle of smart and beautiful people. She recognized Anthea from Mycroft’s office, but otherwise didn’t know a soul, and still had no idea how Mrs. Gorski fit into this. But, another glass of champagne and she wouldn’t care.

When she had heard too many new names to remember, Molly returned to the cozy sofa by the fire and sat with the ladies there. An older woman arrived, and Rebecca called out “Sarah!” and to her amazement Molly saw Mrs. Gorski. Her silver hair was piled atop her head and shining, not flattened by her hairnet and the bakery’s heat, and she wore a very smart navy wool suit and a spectacular gemstone broche in the form of a peacock.

“Delighted to see you Molly,” Sarah Gorski smiled. “No, don’t get up dear, so glad you’re here. She sat down next to her. “We do clean up well, don’t we?”

Molly gushed “This is not what I expected! Why did you ask me to this party, Mrs. G? Did you know I worked with Mycroft’s brother?”

“You do? Well what a marvelous coincidence! Well, I just knew you somehow needed to be here, dear, I can’t explain it. Besides, a nice Jewish girl like you, it’s a shame to still be single at your age, you know.”

Molly wanted to protest. She wasn’t Jewish; she wasn’t anything, not really. Her adoptive parents were bland-as-milk C of E, never went to church. Everything she knew about Judaism she’d learned from friends in college.

But the champagne had muddled her tongue, and she couldn’t possible explain all this, and just sank back into the down-filled cushions and sighed.

At last she spoke “Mrs. Gorski, I have a terrible confession. I’m not really a good Jew, in fact I don’t know much at all about it.”

“Nonsense, dear, you’re just fine. This is your first Purim? Well let me explain….” And she launched into the story of Esther, Malachi and Haman.

“That’s why they’re called Hamantashen!”

The ladies soon had her laughing with Purim tales from their past, involving ridiculous costumes and performances of Esther’s tale. Mrs. Gorski was describing the crown she had made for her brother when a murmur went through the room, and they all looked up to see what was happening.

“Oh, it’s just Shhherlock,” Molly said with a giggle, enjoying that she was having too much fun to care.

Mycroft strode to the entrance double doors and warmly greeted the newcomer. Who was not Sherlock.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present my sister, here on a rare visit from Jerusalem. Rachel Sherringford Holmes.”

Molly stared, mouth open, at the striking woman. Tall, sharp cheekbones, a full mouth, but darker eyes, and fuller hair curling down over her shoulders. She watched her move about the room, greeting people warmly, as if they were old friends or family.

“Molly dear.” Rebecca broke into her reverie. “Would you like me to introduce you?”

Molly managed to nod, hoping she could recover her ability to speak before she had to greet this amazing person.

Sherlock had a _sister_? How had he never mentioned this? Her heart was pounding as they floated across the ballroom, Rebecca chatting about Sherringford’s many accomplishments.

Just as they approached, as Molly was about to extend her ring-less hand, Sherlock arrived out of thin air, still in his coat. He air-kissed Sherringford on either cheek and then stood back to examine her.

“You are spending too much time exposed to solar radiation, Sherr. Otherwise you look quite well.”

She ruffled his hair with an elegant hand. “Never change, alright little brother?” She smiled, he scowled, and turned to leave. Which is when he saw Molly.

“What are _you_ doing here?”

“Sherlock! How very rude of you. Why, she’s here to see me, aren’t you darling?”

Sherringford winked and took Molly’s arm, then towed her toward the bar.

“He can be such a pill. Hello, by the way. I suppose I’d better get your name, so I can continue our charade, how we’re old friends and all.”

Molly felt dizzy, but smiled. She wobbled a bit, and Sherringford caught her arm, steadied her. “Molly, Molly Hooper. A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Holmes.”

“Please call me Shira. My friends do. Now, I think you need that drink.”

Gazing up into that remarkable face, strange yet completely familiar, Molly thought, _I must be dreaming_ , and fainted dead away.

_Continued in Epilogue_

**Author's Note:**

> Dear BootsnBlossoms: I promise you the sweet epilogue is coming soon!


End file.
